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“YOUR HUSBAND IS A HOTEL-KEEPER,” ETC., ETC. 

I 

1 Frontispiece,] J 

• « 



THE 


CURSE AND THE CUP. 


BY 


</ 

JULIA McNAIR WRIGHT, 


AUTHOR OF “ FIREBRANDS “ A STRANGE SEA STORY “ LIFE CRUISE 
OF CAPTAIN BESS ADAMS “ NOTHING TO DRINK “ JUG OR NOT;” 

“ HOW COULD HB ESCAPE ?” THE BEST FELLOW IN THE 
WORLD ” THE EMERALD SPRAY,” “ ON LONDON 
BRIDGE,” “circled BY FIRE,” ETC. 






NRW YORK : 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House. 

58 READE STREET. 


1879. 





Copyright, 1879, by 
J. N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent. 


NEW YORK: 

Edward O. Jenkins, Printer, 
20 North William St. 


The Curse and the Cup. 


A TRUE TALE, 



T was half-past nine on a May 
evening, when a girl of eighteen 
ran up into her bed-room, and shut 
the door with a bang which expressed 
that she was thoroughly out of temper. 
The room was the upper one of a small 
cottage, and had low, sloping ceilings ; 
two beds were in it, and a tallow candle 
burned dimly on the table. Patty Grey 

went up to one of the beds and looked 

( 3 ) 


4 The Curse and the Cup. 

lovingly at its occupants, a boy of nine, 
and one of four; she took the baby’s 
thumb out of his mouth, smoothed the 
quilt, and then went to the other bed 
where slept a girl of six. She was sitting 
on the edge of this bed, looking gloomily 
at the floor, when some one came up the 
narrow stair, vainly tried the bolted door, 
and called — “ Come down, Patty, I tell 
you ! Here’s good company ; they’ll say 
I’m a bad step-mother, keeping a grown- 
up girl like you out of sight ! ” 

“ Go away ! I won’t come down,” re- 
plied Patty ; but now she was sorry as 
well as angry. 

A heavier step came up the stair, and 
the door shook under the blow^of a big 


The Curse and the Cup. 5 

fist. Another voice cried “ Coom down, 
gurl ! Wull ye coom down, an’ sing us a 
song ? a purty gurl like yo, Patty, has na 
right to hide hersen.” Patty began to 
look terrified as she heard the last 
speaker say : “ Sten’ awa,’ an I burst the 
door in a wee.” 

“ Go away ! ” cried Patty, springing 
up. “ If you touch my door. I’ll call the po- 
lice, and the neighbors ; don’t you dare ! ” 

“ Come down ! ” said the woman out- 
side, to her companion. “ Patty’s cross ; 
she’s mostly cross now-a-days ; oh, dear 
me ! ” 

Meanwhile Patty opened a closet and 
took out two clean sheets which were 
there for changing the two beds; she 


6 The Curse and the Cup. 

knotted these together, and going to her 
window looked down into the back-yard, 
dimly discernible in the starlight. Then 
she tied the corner of one sheet fast to 
the post of her little brother’s bed, which 
stood by the window, threw both sheets 
out, sat on the window-sill, and, taking 
the muslin firmly in her hands, let herself 
down to the ground. Then she ran 
swiftly around the house, and down the 
street for half a block, and without cere- 
mony of knocking, burst into a neighbor’s 
dwelling. An elderly lady was sewing 
by a round table ; Patty dropped on the 
floor, laid her face on the lady’s lap, and 
broke into hearty crying, unable for the 
moment, to speak. 


The Curse and the Cup. 7 

“ Patty, my child,” said the lady, “ what 
is wrong now ? ” 

“ Everything is wrong, and all is worse 
and worse. It is of no use to try and 
make things better. They are all drink- 
ing again, and our front room is like a 
bar-room. They are smoking, drinking 
and jabbering. Kate Kidd, who was in 
jail last week for being drunk and disor- 
derly, and big Alec Tooms, tearing up 
stairs after me, and threatening to break 
my door in if I • didn’t come sing for 
them ! ” 

“This thing can not go on, Patty,” 
said the lady, firmly. “You have 
stood by your step-mother, and as 
long as there is any reason in it. You 


8 The Curse and the Cup. 

owe something to your own mother’s 
memory ; besides, in trying to save this 
woman who is determined to throw her- 
self away, you are risking the ruin of her 
children. That house is no place for 
them ; such sights will make little Ben a 
drunkard, and destroy the self-respect of 
Tottie. I often think it is my duty to 
ask the town authorities to intervene be- 
fore you are all ruined, or burnt up in 
your beds. You can not protect those 
children ; you can not even protect your- 
self. You have again and again been 
offered a home by your aunts in Rut- 
land, and now you really must accept it.” 

“ But,” said Patty, “ those aunts are 
my mother’s sisters, and they are no 


The Curse and the Cup. 9 

relation to these three children, and I 
know they will not take them with me. 
In fact, they are not very rich, and the/ 
will blame the children for being the 
children of such a mother. You see, 
Mrs. Neville, that my aunts will never be 
able to understand how nice and good my 
poor step-mother was when my father 
married her, and they are angry at such 
a woman being in my mother's place. 
Then, too, they are very angry at the 
way that my father made his will, and 
how our little money has been wasted.” 

But what will you do? You must 
escape from this somehow.” 

“ My father has relations in Portland, 
Maine. I remember an Uncle Dick, and 


lo The Curse and the Cup. 

an Aunt Martha, that he used to speak 
of. They are related to the children as 
much as to me, and perhaps they will do 
something for them, if they are not too 
poor. Some one wrote them a letter when 
father died, four years and over ago, and 
told him that mother was well, and we 
were left comfortable, and I think she got 
a letter after that. I’ll write to them.” 

“Very well; you’ll have to write to 
some of them this very night,” said Mrs. 
Neville, decidedly, putting by her work 
and going for a writing-desk, “ for if I 
am silent and let things go on as they 
have for six months past, I shall forever 
blame myself if anything terrible occurs 
at your house.” 


The Curse and the Cup. 1 1 

Patty dried her eyes, composed her- 
self, and sitting by the table wrote this 
letter : 

“ My dear Uncle Dick : I am ashamed 
and sorry to tell you that since my 
father’s death my poor step-mother has 
become a confirmed drunkard. I have 
stayed with her and tried to get her to- 
do better, but all seems useless, and I 
am afraid to stay here any longer. I 
could get places to live, and my mother’s 
sisters would also give me a home, but I 
can not be parted from my little step- 
sister and brothers ; for four years they 
have had no mother but me. You are 
their uncle as well as mine, and I thought 
you might be able to make some plan 


1 2 The Curse aud the Cup. 

for us to keep together. I am will- 
ing to work very hard for the children ; 
they are such nice, dear little things, and 
^ their' mother was very, very kind to me 
before she took to drink. I must tell 
you, too, that nearly all the property our 
father left has been wasted, and we chil- 
dren have nothing. 

Your affectionate neice, 

“ Patty Grey.” 

Mrs. Neville promised to post this let- 
ter, and privately made up her mind to 
write one to the same address, telling 
this Uncle Dick what a brave and good 
girl his neice Patty was, and how for four 
years she had been a mother to the chil- 
dren, and had kept the little home in 


The Curse and the Cup 13 

order in spite of the disadvantage of her 
mother’s drunken ways. She told him, 
also, that Patty was a very pretty and 
well-mannered girl, but now it was ni 
longer safe for her to live in such a riot- 
ous home, where thieves and drunkards 
were brought for company. 

Indeed, when Patty was lying asleep 
on the lounge in the early morning, Mrs. 
Neville wrote just such a letter as she 
had planned during a wakeful night, and 
gave both epistles to a neighbor who 
was going early to market, and would 
post them. As she came in after giving 
up these letters, Patty woke, looked 
around, and recovered herself enough to 
remember her last night’s adventure. 


14 The Curse and the Cup. 

I I must go home,” said Patty. 

It is early yet,” said Mrs. Neville : 
'' wait and have some breakfast.” 

“No, indeed, thank you,” said Patty. 
“ I know just how things will be at our 
home. Foul air, broken cups and glasses, 
beer and whisky spilled around, pipe- 
ashes on the floor, mother asleep, very 
likely on the floor, too. I never let the 
children see such things. I get things 
all cleaned up, and mother in bed, the 
house aired, and breakfast ready before 
I let them come down ; I don’t want 
them demoralized by such sights, and I 
don’t like them to remember such ugly 
scenes from their childhood. When I 
was their age, things were nice.” 


The Curse and the Cup. 1 5 

“But how will you get in?” asked 
Mrs. Neville. 

“Oh,” sighed Patty, “easy enough; 
no one will have taken thought to lock 
the house ; it will all be open.” 

“And suppose some of that poor 
thing’s friends are there drunk, too. What 
will you do ? ” 

“ Just what I’ve done before,” said 
Patty, looking very firm. “ I shall step 
to the corner to our policeman’s house, 
and have him come drag them off.” 

“ Well, God go with you and protect 
you,” said Mrs. Neville. “ And Patty, see 
here, I have set twice as many cakes as I 
need for breakfast, and I wish you would 
take a pitcher of the batter home with 


1 6 The Curse and the Cup. 

you for the children ; and here are a 
dozen fresh eggs. My hens lay so many 
that I .do not know what to do with 
them.” 

“ Ah,” said Patty, “ I see how it is ; you 
just want to save me trouble, and the 
only way I can thank you is to come 
back here, when anything goes wrong 
with me.” 

Carrying the pitcher, and the basket of 
eggs, Patty set off for home. It was so 
early that scarcely any one was in the 
street, and the girl found, as she expect- 
ed, the door of her home standing open, 
her step-mother asleep on the floor, and 
the little sitting-room and kitchen giving 
signs of a drunken carousal. 


The Curse and the Cup. 1 7 

The comfortable little cottage had 
three rooms below, and above the one 
large room whence Patty had fled on the 
preceding night. The garden around 
the house was kept in good order by the 
united work of Patty and Ben ; the fur- 
niture was good and sufficient, but in 
spite of Patty’s faithful care, began to 
show signs of drunken usage. All the 
girl’s sweeping, scouring ^nd mending, 
would not hide the traces of glasses of 
grog spilled, of burning matches and 
pipe-ashes dropped on carpet, lounge 
and table-cloth, of windows cracked, 
and tipsy chair-backs broken, as men 
and women lounged against them. 

Patty gave a great sigh, and turned to 


1 8 The Curse and the Cup. 

her accustomed task. First, she bent 
over the sleeper bn the floor ; Ellen 
Grey was a short, plump, small-boned 
woman, with a naturally delicate skin, and 
pretty features, with which drunkenness 
was now making havoc. As Patty stoop- 
ed down to take off this woman’s shoes, 
to loosen her dress, wash her face, and 
smooth her hair, she thought of her as 
the rosy, cheerful, kind-hearted young 
woman who, ten years before, had come 
to be her step-mother. What a brisk, 
vain, tidy, weak-minded little lady she 
had been ! How she had petted 
Patty and made dolls for her, and 
given her numberless indulgences ! and 
when Ben made his appearance she 


The Curse and the Cup. 1 9 

had insisted on his always obeying 
Patty. 

Patty had always called her mother, 
and been glad to do so; but for two 
years past, she could not call this tipsy 
creature by so sacred a name, and had 
fallen into a habit of calling her Ellen. 
At this, Mrs. Grey had fretted and whim- 
pered a little, but that was all. 

“ Ellen ! Ellen, get up and come to 
bed ! ” cried Patty She pulled the sleeper 
as she spoke, and sprinkled water in her 
face. Presently Ellen rose mechanically, 
and, staggering heavily, was led by Patty 
into the bed-room beside the sitting- 
room, and tumbled upon the bed. Hav- 
ing made her as comfortable as she could, 


20 The Curse and the Cup. 

Patty darkened the bed-room, and went 
out, closing the door. Her next care was 
to put her house in order, and make 
ready the breakfast. As she did so she 
kept up a busy thinking, and, all at once 
stopping short in her work, she doubled 
up her pretty hand into a fist, and shook 
it with great fierceness at some imaginary 
enemy. If any one could have seen the 
adversary thus present before Patty’s 
mind’s eye, in what likeness would it 
have risen ? Merely in that of a mild- 
faced, blue-eyed old dame in a mob cap — 
the very personification of a grandmother 
— in fact, the grandmother of Ellen Grey. 

But this genial old dame had been the 
cause of all poor Patty’s miseries. This 


21 


The Curse and the Cup. 

old woman had brought up the orphan 
Ellen, and petted her; she came home 
with her when she was married ; the 
chief article in her creed had been that 
“ Ellen must not be fashed.” Now, before 
and after the arrival of master Ben, Ellen, 
who had never learned any self-control, 
or patience, had felt very feeble and list- 
less, and her grandmother had “ kept her 
heart up ” with rations of gin and whisky, 
commended to her palate by sugar, 
lemons, mint, and various other condi- 
ments. On these stimulants, the weak- 
minded Ellen learned to depend. Her 
grandmother declared them “just what 
she needed,” her husband was glad that 
she had found something to cheer and 


22 The Curse and the Cup. 

strengthen her. As time went on, Ellen 
continued to take these potions ; she 
found in them, as she thought, strength 
and comfort ; she took very much more 
liquor than she herself, or any one else 
realized ; for, while her grandmother pre- 
pared her a gradually increasing allow- 
ance, she helped herself liberally in secret 
to additional rations for which she felt 
ashamed to ask. The foolish grand- 
mother died before seeing the mischief 
which she had done, and Ellen took com- 
fort in her loss from — a bottle of gin. 
She had no idea of becoming a drunk- 
ard ! She would have resented such a 
thdbght. She was tidy and busy as 
ever ; as vain as ever, too, but while she 


The Curse and the Cup. 23 

thought she was getting a little too 
plump and rosy, she did not attribute 
that to her pet medicine. 

It was in these days that Benjamin 
Grey found that his heart was diseased, 
and a sudden death hanging over him. 
Ellen had won his lasting gratitude by 
her kindness to Patty. In an unhappy 
hour he made a will, leaving to his wife 
his entire property, and the sole guar- 
dianship of his children, “ confident that 
she would do the very best that was pos- 
sible for them.” 

His life was* lengthened beyond his 
expectation, so long indeed, that he dis- 
covered the fatal habit which had fixed 
upon her. Greatly alarmed he prepared 


24 The Curse arid the Gup. 

another will, leaving his property, a 
small one, in the hands of an executor, 
for his children, burdened by a settled 
annual payment to his wife, who, to use 
his language, “was unfortunately no 
longer competent to care for herself or 
others.” 

Within sixty days after making this 
will, Benjaman Grey fell dead in his shop, 
and, as by the law of the State in which 
he lived, a will executed so shortly before 
death, is null and void, the first will re- 
mained in force, and Ellen Grey was sole 
owner of all that her husband left. She 
loved her children. She meant to do 
well. She said that her husband’s suspi- 
cions as expressed in his last will were 


25 


The Curse and the Cup. 

cruelly unfounded, but in her grief at his 
loss, she turned to strong drink for con- 
solation. 

Her third child, Peter, was born six 
months after its father’s death, and Ellen 
found it impossible to nurse the child, 
without partaking plentifully of beer, 
wine, and whisky. She now was often 
overcome by drink, and Patty discovered 
that her once beloved step-mother was a 
confirmed drunkard. 

With some such heroism as that 
child of Holland displayed, who sat for 
hours in the cold night, his small finger 
pressed into the break of the leaking 
dyke, Patty put her girl courage ta the 
combat with on-coming ruin in her home. 


26 The Curse and the Cup. 

Her masterful spirit could conquer her 
step-mother in all regards but one. She 
could not make her stop drinking. Patty 
ordered the domestic affairs, she clothed 
Ben and Tottie, and sent them to school ; 
she said that baby Peter must be weaned 
— “You will make'him a drunkard if you 
nurse him,” she said, boldly, to Ellen. 
Ellen scolded a little, and cried a little, 
but her evil habit was making her indo- 
lent about caring for an undeniably cross 
babe, and Patty was allowed to wean 
him. 

And now the care of the valiant Patty 
with her drunken step-mother, was some- 
thing like that of a wife with a drunken 
husband. Ellen owned the house and 


controlled the family funds, and this sub- 
stance, like the prodigal of old, she 
wasted in riotous living. Patty spared in 
potatoes and in fuel, she did the work, 
and turned garments ten times, and Ellen 
invited her boon companions to supper, 
or went out and gave treats, and bought 
casks of beer, demijohns of liquor, and 
bottles of wine with the money that 
should have been saved for the support 
and education of the family. So things 
for four years went on from bad to worse, 
until we see Patty escaping from her 
window at night, to escape from Ellen’s 
disreputable company ; for in a drunken 
fit Ellen showed her olden love for her 


28 The Curse and the Cup. 

step-child by insisting that the girl should 
“sharefher enjoyments.” 

Mrs. Neville only spoke the judgment 
of the neighborhood, when she said that 
Ellen’s home was no longer a fit shelter 
for her children ; that all efforts of friend- 
ship and of fillial affection had been ex- 
hausted for her reformation, and her case 
seemed hopeless. 

About three weeks after the letter had 
been sent to Mr. Richard Grey, in Port- 
land, a gentleman with a valise in his 
hand, appeared at Mrs. Neville’s as that 
lady sat at supper. The small maid 
brought him at once to the dining-room, 
and Mrs. Neville, as soon as he intro- 


The Curse and the Cup, 29 

duced himself, hospitably invited him 
to supper. “We can talk over mat- 
ters more comfortably over a cup of tea,” 
she remarked, as her guest took a place 
opposite to her. 

“ I should like to know,” said Mr. 
Grey, “ how my brother came to marry 
such a disreputable person as this widow 
seems to be.” 

“ She was far from disreputable when 
she married,” was the reply. “ She was a 
very pretty, good-tempered, healthy girl ; 
a good homekeeper, and a good seam- 
stress. The trouble is, that she was 
brought up to take / want and not 
I ought for her rule ; what was pleasant 
was to her a guide instead of duty : she 


30 The Curse aiid the Cup. 

was self-indulgent. She sought to es- 
cape from physical pain or weakness, 
not by patient endurance, not by legiti- 
mate remedies, but by the prompter 
means of a stimulant or a narcotic. Hav* 
ing never been brought up to deny her- 
self, she can not now deny herself the 
use of liquor ; since she has become accus- 
tomed to it she feels depression or crav- 
ing if she is for a time without her 
potions, and these unpleasant expe- 
riences she cannot endure, even for 
the sake of reformation, for regaining 
her own self-respect, the esteem of 
her friends and the love of her chil- 
dren.” 

*‘A drunken man is detestable,” said 


^he Curse and the Cup. 3 1 

Mr. Grey, “ but what can be more hor- 
rible than a drunken woman ? ” 

“ There is a great deal of drunkenness 
among women,” said Mrs. Neville, “ more 
than one would at first suppose, and I 
think much of it has arisen from the prac- 
tice of physicians in ordering alcoholic or 
malt stimulants to their patients.” 

“I should have removed these children 
long ago, if I had known of this state of 
affairs,” said Mr. Grey. 

“They would not have gone long ago. 
Patty really loved her step-mother, and 
she has a curious mingling of sisterly 
and maternal devotion for the three chil- 
dren. The poor girl was bent on re- 
forming Ellen, and has uselessly tried 


32 The Curse and the Cup. 

every means in her power. Now she is 
willing to go, for the sake of saving the 
children and herself from the dangers 
around them. You will not repent be- 
friending her.-’ 

“ I am by no means rich,” said Mr. 
Grey, “ and to take a family of four into 
my home will be a heavy tax upon me. 
I wish there were other relatives to 
share the burden. Is there any property 
left for these little folks ? ” 

“ No ; not even a decent wardrobe. 
There was the shop, the house, and a 
few thousands in bank ; three, perhaps. 
Patty wanted to keep up the shop. She 
was able to see to the books, and un- 
derstood the business pretty well, and 


33 


The Curse and the Cup. 

she said if Ellen would try to do her 
part behind the counter until Ben was 
old enough to stand there, she thought 
the tow ns- people would patronize them. 
But whisky had destroyed all Ellen’s en- 
,ergy or enterprise. She sold the shop 
at a great sacrifice, then bought expen- 
sive mourning, and for two years kept a 
servant and lived extravagantly for her 
means. By that time their bank funds 
were nearly exhausted. Patty was then* 
sixteen, and she dismissed the servant, 
reduced expenses, did all the work, and 
for two years and a half has been fight- 
ing for a maintenance ; but Ellen wastes 
dollars where Patty saves cents, and now 
a heavy mortgage is on the cottage and 
3 


34 The Cu7'se and the Cup. 

its lot. Ellen will end in the alms- 
house.” 

Mr. Grey gave a deep sigh. “ What 
a waste ! ” he exclaimed. “ Well, if you 
will point me out the house, I will go 
and see these unfortunate children.” 

• 

Arriving at Ellen Grey’s home, he 
found the front door open, a table in the 
middle of the floor with a pitcher of beer 
and some glasses on it, a pack of dirty 
cards, a large bowl of cold punch and 
several cups, a red-faced man lay on the 
lounge smoking, an old woman diligently 
drinking beer sat with her elbows on the 
dirty table, and, leaning back in a rocking- 
chair, a mug of punch between her hands, 
was the mistress of the house. The care' 


35 


The Curse and the Cup. 

of Patty kept Ellen in clean calico gowns ; 
she wore now a blue dress with white 
apron and collar, her abundant yellow 
hair had been neatly dressed by her 
dutiful step-child ; the hands which held 
her mug were small and white if un- 
steady, and a pair of feet thrust carelessly 
out in front of her, while covered with 
the cheapest of prunella slippers, were 
diminutive and well-shaped. This party 
of three were already quite tipsy. 

“ Come in, come in,” said Ellen’s yet 
agreeable voice to the stranger, whom 
she saw standing in her doorway ; “ have 
a seat and take a mug of what you like. 
I don’t know who you are, but I’m 
bound to be hospitable and free-handed. 


36 The Curse and the Cup. 

Here’s a seat by the table ; come in, 
sir ! 

“ I wish to see Miss Patty Grey,” said 
the visitor. 

“ Oh, its Patty you’re after ! Well, I 
hope you’re fine enough to please her ; 
my company aint. You’ll have to step 
up to her room, if she’ll let you in. She 
won’t come down. Patty used to be a 
dutiful child, but now she turns up her 
nose at me who always treated her bet- 
ter than me own flesh and blood ! Yon’s 
the stair, and P-atty’s room’s up top of it. 
I suppose the saucy baggage has gone to 
choosing her own friends, and in my own 
house she despises me.” 

As Ellen burst into a maudlin wail, she 


37 


The Curse and the Cup, 

rocked back her chair upon the dog of 
the man who lay on the lounge ; the dog 
yelped wildly ; its owner jerked it out of 
danger by the tail, and the incensed brute 
avenged its wrongs by flying at Ellen’s cat. 
The cat in terror scaled the back of ' the 
woman by the table/ who, howling witli 
alarm, sprang up so violently as to upset 
beer, pitcher, and glasses. Amid this 
wild chorus of beast and human voices, 
of falling chairs and breaking crockery- 
ware, Mr. Grey climbed the stair which 
Ellen had indicated, heartily resolving to- 
rescue, at any cost, his niece from such a 
bedlam, and from the society of a drunken 
mother who would send a stranger unan- 
nounced up to a young girl’s private room. 


38 The Curse and the Cup. 

As Mr. Grey tapped .at the only door 
which he found at the top of the stairs, 
this door swung open, as its latch was 
imperfect, and he beheld his new proteges 
seated at the window. Patty, in a low 
rockmg-chair, had in her arms little Peter, 
washed and curled,* and in his scanty 
night-gown. The child’s head lay on 
his sister's shoulder, and, with a look of 
motherly tenderness, she was singing him 
to sleep. Tottie on a stool with a rag 
doll in her arms was closely imitating all 
her sister’s motions, while Ben, seated 
astride the low window-sill, was taking 
advantage of the last daylight to read a 
story-book. The little bed-room was 
.scrupulously neat. Peter’s day garments 


The Curse and the Cup. 39 

hung on a bed-post and both beds were 
turned smoothly open for the night. 

At sight of a tall intruder, hat in hand, 
Patty’s eyes blazed, she gathered Peter 
closer in her arms and sought to rise, 
while Ben tumbled into the room, his fists 
closed, ready for action. Tottie rolled 
like a ball under the nearest bed. 

“My dear Patty, I am your Uncle 
Dick,” said the stranger, and he tapped 
Ben on the head, stooped down and 
fished Tottie from her hiding, gravely 
took Patty by the shoulder and replaced 
her in her chair, sat down on the edge of 
one of the beds, and remarked, “ My 
poor child, I have received your letter, 
and from what I observed down stairs, 


40 The Curse and the Cup. 

it is quite time that you sent it. What a 
hole for you to live in ! ” 

Patty flushed. “ I have been trying to 
make things better, but now I have given 
up in despair. I waited as long as I 
could, for I did not like that we all should 
be burdens on anybody. My father left 
us what ought to have taken care of us 
all, but now it is gone and we are beg- 
gars.” 

“ I should have been told how things 
stood when your father died,” said Mr. 
Grey, severely. 

“ I was only thirteen and a half, sir, 
and I did not see what was wrong with 
poor Ellen, nor did I know what should 
be done. Everything was left to her. 


41 


The Curse and the Cup, 

and she unfortunately was not able to at- 
tend to it. But, sir, I can work ; and 
Ben is a good boy, he will soon be able 
to take care of himself. I thought it 
wrong to stay here any longer, lest Ben 
should get led off to take to drink.” 

“ Catch me ! ” said Ben. “ Don’t cry, 
Patty. I’ll take care of you.” 

“The children are such good little 
things ! I can not be parted from them, 
sir; this three years and more, no one 
has cared for them but just me ! ” cried 
Patty. 

“ Don’t call me ‘ sir ; ’ say uncle. I do 
not wish to be a stranger to you,” said 
Mr. Grey , and just then Peter, turning his 
head on his sister’s bosom, opened at his 


42 The Curse and the Cup. 

uncle a pair of sleepy black eyes, large 
and soft, like a pair which had “ shut the 
gate of joy ” on him, in going down under 
the daisies. With a sudden emotion of 
tenderness, he took the unresisting child 
from Patty, kissed him, and composed him 
to sleep in his own arms. Patty saw that 
Peter’s course was won. “ I do not intend 
to separate you,” said Mr. Grey. “ In fact, 
though I am in very moderate circum- 
stances, I must take you all, for there are 
no relations left to aid in your support. 
And,” he added, smiling, “ I should be 
badly off if you go to your mother’s sis- 
ters, and leave me with three strange 
children to take care of. They’d cry 
and I hate crying.” 


The Curse and the Cup. 43 

“ I can work, uncle ; perhaps I can 
help in your business.” 

“ I keep a coal-yard,” said Mr. Grey. 

“All the same, I can be your clerk,” 
replied Patty. “ I did not want to grow 
up knowing nothing, and I have practiced 
writing, and I got books and learned 
book-keeping. I had a teacher for a 
while, and the commercial college master 
here, says I am a good book-keeper, 
single and double-entry, sir. And 
Ben and Tottie would be all day at 
school.” 

“ We shall see,” said Mr. Grey, who 
was a thrifty man, and admired energy. 
“ We shall see. I have no family but 
my wife and two little girls, about Ben’s 


44 The Curse and*the C%ip. 

age. Patty, can you start day after to- 
morrow ? " 

“Yes, sir, if you can get Ellen to give 
up the children.” 

“ If she will not, I shall apply to the 
Court for possession of them, as she is 
notoriously incompetent to care for them. 
Mrs. Neville tells me that public opinion 
is so against Ellen that I will have no 
difficulty in getting an order from the 
Court, committing them to me, and you 
are of age, you can choose for yourself.” 

“ I will get our clothes ready to-mor- 
row, and try and have Ellen sober by 
afternoon, so that she will understand 
things.” 

“ Mrs. Neville asked me to stay at her 


The Curse and the Cup. 45 

house to-night, but are you not afraid to 
be left here ? I hear others coming in.” 

“ No, I shall draw this bed against the 
door. I am not afraid ; I sleep lightly, 
and if the house gets on fire, why I have 
a clothes rope up here, and I shall let the 
children down from the window, and go 
down myself.” 

“ I can take care of Patty and the chil- 
dren,” said Ben, with dignity. 

“Good-bye until to-morrow, then,” 
said Mr. Grey. “ Do you need any money 
to get yourselves ready for traveling?” 

“ If you are not ashamed of plain 
clothes, I do not,” said Patty, “ for I have 
been able so far to keep the children de- 


cent. 


, 4^ The Curse and the Cup. 

“ I’ll come ’round in the morning,” re- 
plied Mr. Grey, in a friendly tone. He 
had made up his mind that Patty was a 
valiant girl, who would be a credit to all 
her relations. 

“ Don’t come before eleven, please,” 
said Patty. “ I will send the children 
over to Mrs. Neville’s to call on you.” 

Mr. Grey scrambled down stairs, and 
made his way through the tobacco smoke 
and fumes of whisky unnoticed by the 
drunken crew, until he reached the door- 
way, where a young dray-driver less in- 
toxicated than the rest, who frequently 
called on Ellen in a forever vain hope of 
seeing Patty, cried out, “Hullo! who’s 
this ? have Patty got a beau ? ” 


The Curse and the Cup. 47 

Mr. Grey was so enraged that he felt 
ready to chastise the fellow on the spot, 
but regard for himself and his only avail- 
able suit of clothes, warned him against 
a foolish riot with tipsy people, so he 
contented himself with saying in a tone 
calculated to strike awe into the offend- 
ing soul, “Young man ! I am her uncle." 

“ Well, you aint a very jolly looking 
one, old cove,” replied the young repro- 
bate, and Mr. Grey stalked off, bent on 
taking away his nephews and nieces as 
soon as possible. 

Patty was up early next day, setting 
her home in order, and packing up the 
trunk of clothing belonging to herself and 
the children. Half expecting to be called 


48 The Curse and the Ctip. 

to change her abode, she had for several 
weeks been making and mending apparel 
as best she might, and now a little wash- 
ing and ironing, and making up some 
collars and cuffs, from the better stores, 
yet belonging to Ellen, completed her 
preparations. 

Two years previously Patty had com- 
mitted her father’s silver watch, her own 
mother’s rings, two dozen silver spoons, 
a butter-knife and a pair of silver mugs, 
the entire stock of family plate, to the 
care of Mrs. Neville; with these she had 
put several nice books, a picture, and a 
pair of fine table-cloths. This was Patty’s 
sole salvage from the wreck of their 
household property. 


The Curse and the Cup. 49 

Using her utmost efforts to bring Ellen 
to her senses, by afternoon the poor 
woman was sober enough to understand 
Mr. Grey, when he unfolded to her his 
errand. To his surprise she made very 
little objection to the loss of her own 
children. She said that “she was too 
poorly to do for them; that she was 
losing money ; that soon she would be 
unable to feed so many mouths, the chil- 
dren were a trouble to her ; if they were 
gone Patty could sleep with her, and 
they could put two or three nice board- 
ers in the upper room. The children took 
too much of Patty’s time — if their uncle 
wanted them, he was very kind, and he 
was welcome to them.” After these re- 


4 


50 The Curse and the Cup. 

marks about her own children Mr. Grey 
was astounded to find that Ellen was 
furious at the idea of losing her step- 
child. “Take Patty away! Pray what 
would she do then, a poor weakly creat- 
ure like her. Didn’t Patty keep the 
house ? Who would make her clothes, 
and do the washing, and cook for the 
boarders they meant to take? Patty 
leave her, to be sure I A pretty return 
for all she’d done for Patty this ten years 
since she had married Patty’s father. 
Suppose she got sick ? Suppose she 
married again, as a likely woman, not so 
old, very easy might, suppose she lost 
the rest of her money, as no doubt she 


The Curse and the Cup. 5 1 

would, her luck was so bad, who could 
care for her but Patty ? ” 

“Your home is not fit for a young 
woman to stay in,” said Mr. Grey. 
“Your company is not fit for a young 
girl to meet. This place is not safe for 
my niece. She has exhausted all efforts 
to make a good woman of you, and as 
they have all failed, now she must go.” 

“To make a good woman of me ! ” 
cried Ellen. “ I am a good woman ; not 
a better in this town. A pretty thing to 
set up a daughter against her mother. 
Now, if Patty that I brought up thinks 
that way of me, let her go, and I’ll 
not stop an hour in this house till she’s 
gone. I’m going to Kate Kidd’s to 


52 The Curse and the Cup, 

stop until Patty Grey is out of this 
house.” 

Away she went, bonnetless, in spite of 
all Patty’s entreaties and protestations. 
Kate Kidd’s was as villainous a spot as 
there was in the town, a den of thieves 
and drunkards, a place where Patty could 
not venture to bid her mother good-bye, 
or to beg her to return for a proper fare- 
well to the three children. Therefore, 
next day at ten, the weeping Patty, with 
her little brothers and sister, locked up 
the desolated home, gave the key to 
Mrs. Neville, and left town with her 
uncle, followed by the good wishes of all 
who knew her, and had sympathized with 
her hard lot, and her brave self-devotion. 


53 


The Curse and the Cup. 

A day or two after Patty had gone, 
Ellen came home, and going into her 
cottage opened the windows, and walked 
through the four deserted rooms. All was 
in perfect order. Patty had swept, dust- 
ed, mended, and washed windows, nearly 
all night before her departure. The 
stove in the kitchen was newly polished, 
and behind it stood a box full of kindling, 
and a pile of cut wood, little Ben’s last 
work for his neglectful mother. On the 
table was a basket full of potatoes and a 
ham ; in the closet Patty had left flour, 
meal, and molasses. Through the win- 
dow Ellen could see the little garden full 
of vegetables nicely growing ; all around 
her spoke of her banished children. On 


54 Curse and the Cup. 

the sitting-room table lay a Bible, and 
upon it a letter. Ellen sat down and 
opened it ; it was from Patty ; thus : 

“ Dear Mother : — I am very sorry to 
be obliged to leave you, and if you will 
only give up drinking we will all come 
back. I can never see you more, or 
bring the children to you, if you will not 
sign a pledge and keep it ; but if you will 
only do that we can be very happy to- 
gether. It is true we are now poor, but 
if you would be sober and keep the 
house nicely, I would work and earn 
money, Ben would help me, and soon 
we should pay off the mortgage and 
make a nice living. Won’t you try? 
Won’t you ask God to help you to be a 


The Curse and the Cup. 55 

good woman once more, so we can all be 
one family again. Patty.” 

Ellen laid down the letter and began 
to cry. Hers were not tears of peni- 
tence, but of self-commiseration ; she was 
weak in mind and body, from long use of 
a disastrous stimulant; she felt lonely, 
and did not see how she was to get on 
by herself. Many women, left with a 
snug house, a comfortable amount of fur- 
niture, a well-stocked pantry, no one but 
themselves to take care of, would have 
felt well off, and capable of independence. 
Ellen went into her bedroom ; there was 
the neat bed, and in the bureau all her 
clothes well ironed and in good order. 


56 The Curse and the Cup, 

Tears kept dropping hopelessly on her 
clasped hands, as she marked all these 
evidences of care-taking, care which she 
must now miss forever. Returning to 
her sitting-room, and dropping into her 
rocking-chair, she was presently visited 
by Mrs. Neville, who came to urge, with 
all earnestness and solemnity, a return to 
sober habits. She appealed to Ellen’s 
love for her children, but that seemed 

( 

dead; to her pride, but that was too 
weak an emotion to contend with her 
fatal passion ; she strove to rouse a fear 
of death and of judgment to come, but 
liquor-drinking benumbs conscious and 
religious instinct. All words fell power- 
less on Ellen’s stony heart. 


57 


The Curse and the Cup. 

“ Make a firm stand Ellen Grey ; con- 
quer this thirst; for one year be sober 
and your children will return, and you 
will be the honored mother of a family. 
Get some one to come and watch you, to 
keep you in, and prevent your getting 
liquor ; or let me rent your house as it 
stands, and do you go to an Inebriate 
Asylum until you are cured.” 

“ Oh, the hardness of people’s hearts ! ” 
moaned Ellen. “To wish to keep me from 
just the one thing that quiets my mind, 
and heartens me up. I’m so nervous ; 
you don’t know how horrible that is, Mrs. 
Neville, but I’m so nervous that every 
noise frets me, and I feel as if I’d fly out 
of my skin, and just one good drink of 


58 The Curse and the Cup. 

whisky puts me all right. Whisky 
may hurt other people, but it don’t hurt 
me. Every person ought to judge for 
themselves what is good for them. I 
don’t want to give it up, it’s all a notion, 
a bit of fanaticism. I feel so quiet and 
comfortable when I have it ! ” 

“ But see what it does for you. It 
makes you lazy, you will sit and drink 
and do nothing else, half stupid all day. 
It costs money ; it brings you into bad 
company ; it is a bad example ; it makes 
you irritable, deprives you of your chil- 
dren’s company, makes you careless of 
their comfort, and ready to spoil their 
home.” 


“It’s all their fancy; they shouldn’t 


59 


The Curse and the Cup. 

have such notions,” interrupted Ellen, 
going to her closet to look for a jug of 
liquor ; but Patty had emptied it out. 

“I must have a drink, Mrs. Neville, 
ril go wild if I don’t. I’m so nervous. 
Oh, what a thing it is to be nervous ! ” 
Mrs. Neville went home in disgust, 
and Ellen started for the tavern. In a 
few days her house was in disorder, and 
she had several of her boon companions 
“ boarding with her,” as she called it, but 
she, in her childish carelessness, did not 
get a cent of payment from them. 

Mrs. Neville had a letter from Patty 
telling her that she and the little family 
had ^Seen kindly received by her aunt in 
Portland, and were likely to be comfort- 


6o The Curse and the Cup. 

able there. She desired Mrs. Neville to 
write her if there should be any good 
news from Ellen. Said Mrs. Neville, 
folding the letter : “ The only good 

news would be that the foolish creature 
had died.” 

The lately neat cottage now became a 
scene of disorder; the garden was neg- 
lected, windows were broken, the fence 
palings were taken for kindling wood — 
all was going to ruin. If passing by the 
home of the sluggard one sees — “ and 
lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and 
nestles had covered the face thereof, and 
the stonewall thereof was broken down,” 
how much more does one see “poverty 
coming as one that traveleth, and want 


The Curse and the Cup. 6 1 

as an armed man ” as the dwelling of the 
drunkard. The holder of the mortgage 
on Ellen Grey’s cottage, seeing destruc- 
tion overtaking the place, foreclosed his 
claim as soon as possible, and within a 
year after Patty’s departure Ellen’s home 
was composed of two rooms in a shabby 
row of tenant-houses. Here she moved 
her furniture. Some friends of her better 
days put the place in order for her, 
arranged her possessions as best they 
might, and Mrs. Neville again used every 
persuasion to induce her to reform, de- 
picting the home she might have with 
her children. Drunkenness, however, 
slays all natural affection, and poor Ellen 
was deaf as that “adder that stoppeth 


62 The Curse atid the Cup, 

her ear, and will not hear the voice of 
the charmer, charm he never so wisely.” 

Mrs. Neville left her, once more giving 
up all hope ; as the lady returned to her 
home, she painfully contrasted in her 
mind, Ellen blotched, bloated, blear- 
eyed, maudlin, alone in her shabby 
rooms, with the fair-faced happy young 
bride, who had won the admiration of 
the neighborhood by her respectful care 
of her old grandmother, her devotion to 
her little step-daughter, and her admira 
ble housekeeping. 

It was nearly a year after this, when, on 
a damp evening, as Mrs. Neville was re- 
turning home from a visit to a sick friend, 
she met a short, stout woman toil- 


The Curse and the Cup. 63 

ing along under the weight of an enor- 
mous bundle. The light of the street- 
lamp fell full on her face, and Mrs. Ne- 
ville stopped short, recognizing Ellen 
Grey, carrying in her arms a carpet. 
Ellen recognized her old neighbor, and 
leaning against a fence, rested her load 
upon it, crying, “Ah, Mrs. Neville, to 
think I should see this evil day ! ” 

“ Ellen, what does this mean ? " 

“ It means, ma’am, that I’m on my road 
to the pawn-shop to sell my carpet. Going 
where all my things have gone but a few 
beggarly traps that once I should have 
been ashamed to own. I’m going by 
night, ma’am, because I’m ashamed to be 
seen going by day.” 


64 The Curse and the Cup. 

The next morning Mrs. Neville went 
to find Ellen. She discovered her in one 
miserable room, a feeble fire flickering in 
the hearth-place, the apartment denuded 
of furniture, until a poor cot, a small 
stand, two broken chairs, and a few pans 
and crockery- ware were all that remained 
of Ellen’s oitce plentiful furnishings. 

A curious characteristic of this fallen 
woman remained — last vestige of her 
former estate — the place was clean and 
Ellen was clean. While Patty had been 
with her to preserve neatness, Ellen had 
neglected everything ; but Patty gone, 
whenever Ellen got sober, she abhorred 
• the dirt around her, and spent her time 
scrubbing, sweeping, window-washing, 


The Curse and the Cup. 65 

and washing and ironing her own 
clothes. 

As soon as Ellen came to herself she 
would go among her poor neighbors and 
borrow here a broom, and there a scrub- 
bing brush, in this place a bit of soap, in 
that a tub of suds, and then she would 
work away for hours. Her neighbors, 
though in miserable circumstances, pitied 
their lonely companion, reflecting on her 
better days, and freely lent her what she 
asked, though to prevent her selling or 
pawning the borrowed articles, they must 
keep watch and send for them. Woe to 
any urchin so sent, who looked particu- 
larly dirty. Ellen’s mania had been 
known to extend to such, and she would 


66 The Curse and the Cup. 

plunge them into her tub and scour 
them thoroughly. From this she had 
acquired among the gamins of her quar- 
ter the sobriquet of “ Granny Gin and 
Water ! ” 

Being asked if she remembered her 
children, and would not like to hear from 
them, Ellen replied that she had forgot- 
ten whether the name of the youngest 
were Peter or Paul, and that she did not 
care to hear from them, unless they 
would send her some money. 

Mrs. Neville felt that it would be a 
cruel imposition to ask a man, who, like 
Mr. Richard Grey, had burdened himself 
with the support of four children, to give 
money to this spendthrift, who had drank 


The Curse a 7 id the Cup. 67 

up a decent living. The county, which 
by granting licenses for the sale of intox- 
icating drink, had fostered this creature’s 
depraved appetite, should now bear the 
burden of her support. Mrs. Neville 
urged Ellen to go to the alms-house, 
but the suggestion was received with 
wrath. Indeed, so furious was Ellen, 
that Mrs. Neville did not dare to repeat 
her visit. 

A year after this, Ellen became — we 
were about to say a common beggar — but 
the truth is, there was something uncom- 
mon in her proceedings. She would go 
to those who had known her in her better 
days, and say : “ Well, here is pretty 

Ellen Grey turned beggar-woman ! You 


68 The Curse and the Cup. 

know what did it — whisky ! Dear, dear, 
don’t talk to me ! I know how I am, and 
now, for old acquaintance sake, I want 
some clothes. Give me some finery : I 
like tasty things, and I become them. I 
don’t want any old ragged shoes, and 
faded calico gowns ; keep them for trash- 
beggars. Give me your last year’s bon- 
net, and a trimmed gown, and, have you 
an old collar or veil ? ” 

People gave l^er such things as she 
asked for, and Ellen might be seen step- 
ping along to beg, a fringed or flounced 
merino or muslin gown held very high 
from the pavements, exhibiting clean 
white hose, and carefully laced-up boots, 
a veil pinned on her old-fashioned hat, 


The Curse and the Cup. 69 

and somebody’s half-worn collar elabo- 
rately fastened by somebody else’s bow. 

She would never take a rolled-up bun- 
dle. She wanted to examine the dona- 
tion, and if it contained something which 
she did not fancy, she would return it. 
For instance : “ Here, this ribbon won’t 
do for me ; it’s yellow, and don’t suit my 
complexion. I’ve too much red in my 
face to wear that. I won’t have those 
shoes,- they’re too big. I always had a 
little foot.” 

Once a good soul slipped a Bible into 
the clothes which she bestowed. Ellen 
promptly set it aside. “ No Bible for me ; 
I’m afraid of it. If I had it in my room 
one night, I should see ghosts. Why, in 


70 The Curse ajid the Cup. 

the dark, if I looked at the spot where 
that Bible was, I should see a qrreat shin- 
ing- finger pointed at me, and I should 
hear a voice, ‘ Thou hast destroyed thy- 
self. No drunkard shall enter the king- 
dom of God ! ’ ” 

“ But, Ellen, it would also say, ‘ Though 
thy sins be as scarlet, they shall be as 
snow. Look unto me and be saved.’ ” 

“ That’s for those who give up sins, 
and I do not mean to. I cant, and 
there’s an end of it. There, keep your 
things, they’d make me think until I got 
the horrors ; it is right mean of you to 
talk to me so. Now, I can never come 
here for things any more.” 

Ellen was, evidently, partly out of her 


The Curse and the Cup. 71 

mind, and people indulged her. She 
never stole, and never fought, and her 
absurd fashion of begging was tolerated 
by those who pitied her fall. 

She would go about asking for food, 
in this manner : “ I am come for some- 

thing nice. I always was used to good 
living. I want no beggars’ messes tum- 
bled together, but things put in decently. 
See, my basket’s as clean as new ; now 
put me three or four biscuits under this 
napkin ; why, butter them of course, thick. 
What meat did you have for dinner; 
mutton? Well, I don’t want any. I’ll 
go see if I can get a bit of chicken. 
When are you going to give me some of 
your nice cookies ? Ah, that’s nice ; put 


72 The Curse and the Cup. 

them in this paper bag. No ! I like 
mackerel, but I won’t take it. It smells 
up my basket. I’m going to Betts’ gro- 
cery for some tea ; they always give me 
an ounce of the best.'* 

When her demands failed to be met, 
she was not scrupulous about accusing 
her benefactors of stinginess, poor house- 
keeping, or failing- fortunes. 

One cold winter’s day, in the midst of a 
heavy storm, Ellen staggered to the door 
of her former home, now renovated and 
comfortable. Strangers lived there, and 
only two young girls were in the house ; 
frightened at “ the drunken woman,” 
and not knowing that she was harmless, 
they bolted the door. Ellen walked 


The Curse and the Cup. 73 

about the house, in a maze of drunken 
reflections on the time when she owned 
this house, wore good clothes, and kept a 
servant; she sobbed and cried at the 
thought of past luxuries, and finally sat 
down in the snow on the, door-step. She 
remained there until nearly benumbed ; 
then gathering her failing energies she 
staggered down the street, and recog- 
nizing Mrs. Neville’s door she stumbled 
against it and knocked. When the door 
was set open she fell heavily forward, as 
one dead. 

Mrs. Neville was overcome with pity; 
with the aid of her servant she undressed 
Ellen, rubbed her, fed her hot tea, and 
put her to bed in hot blankets. The 


74 'The Curse and the Cup. 

next day the poor inebriate was too fee- 
ble to rise. Mrs. Neville put on her her 
own cap and night-dress, and nursed her 
carefully. For a week she fed and cared 
for her, withholding all stimulant, hoping 
that when her §enses were no longer 
under the control of poison she would 
listen to reason. However, the longer 
Ellen was debarred her loved drink the 
more she craved it. Mrs. Neville told 
her she might stay with her the rest of 
the winter. She would feed, clothe, and 
shelter her, if she would not go to her 
old haunts, or get any liquor. 

Ellen made no reply ; in truth she was 
preparing to escape as soon as she was 
able. After a fortnight's stay, she was 


75 


The Curse and the Cup, 

quite recovered, and, rising early in the 
morning, she put on her own clothes and 
stole away, without a word of good-by. 
That very day Mrs. Neville received a 
letter from Portland ; it was from Patty, 
and contained five dollars. 

She said that they were all happy and 
doing well ; that she had now and then 
earned a little money by copying law 
papers, but that most of her time was 
occupied in helping her aunt in her house, 
and in doing the sewing for the children. 
As her uncle was not rich, she had al- 
ways used whatever she earned in buy- 
ing for the children their school-books, 
or other needful things. The five dollars 
sent in the letter she had earned by 


76 The Curse and the Cup. 

some sewing done late in the evenings, 
and she had concluded she might for 
once send that to Mrs. Neville to use for 
“poor Ellen.” 

Mrs. Neville took the letter and went 
In search of her late guest, thinking she 
might win her to a better frame of mind. 
However, she .found her in a state of 
stupid intoxication. The five dollars she 
used in fuel, with which an honest cobbler 
agreed to make Ellen’s fires when he 
found her likely to be at home, and 
Patty’s pious offering probably kept Ellen 
from perishing with cold in an unusually 
severe winter. 

Pawning and selling her things, and 
begging rent-money finally failed to fur- 


The Curse and the Cup, 77 

nish Ellen with a shelter. She was un- 
ceremoniously seized the next winter and 
carried to the almshouse. There she 
so resented her situation, and treated 
the other paupers with such lofty con- 
tumely that the people in charge of the 
place grew weary of her, and politely 
leaving her unwatched, she availed her- 
self of the opportunity to run away. Re- 
turning to the town, some of the ladies 
said: “Why, Ellen! are you back? 
Why did you not stay at that nice board- 
ing place ? ” 

“The company was too vulgar for 
me,” said Ellen. “ I am used to gentry. 
Pretty Ellen Grey to be shut up with 
paupers' ! ” 


78 The Curse and the Cup, 

The ladies amused at her fine airs 
rented a little room, put in it a bed, chair, 
stove, and table, and agreed to keep 
Ellen in food and fuel. One of them 
said to her : 

“Now, Ellen! see what we are doing 
for you; we are your friends, and j^ou 
should regard our wishes; we want you 
to stop drinking ; if you will, we will take 
care of you.” 

“As for that,” said Ellen, “ what you 
do is set off by what your husbands do 
on the other side of the question.” 

“ Well, what do they do ? ” 

“ First place,” said Ellen, “ they voted 
against the whisky prohibition and local 
option — if we hadn’t grog-shops, and 


The Curse and the Cup. 79 

liquor-selling I couldnt get drunk. Then 
they sell licenses, and these men open 
liquor-stores on every block ; how can I 
stand such temptation ? Your husband is 
a hotel-keeper, and when I had my own 
home and money, I bought lots of liquor 
at his bar. Your husband is a druggist ; 
he sells by the quart or bottle, and long 
ago„^ when I was ashamed to go to worse 
places for drink, I bought of him on the 
sly, and I fixed my habit by what I got 
from him. Your husband is a doctor; 
he advised me to drink beer and toddy 
when I was nursing my first two children. 
My grannie asked him if it wouldn’t be 
good for me, and he said ‘Yes.’ Your 
husband is a preacher, but I have often 


8o The Curse and the Cup. 

heard him say that this stir about total 
abstinence was fanatical. Your husband 
is a judge ; dozens of times I have seen 
baskets of champagne, cases of port and 
sherry, and demijohns of bourbon, going 
to your home for his parties. He set me 
an example. Oh, yes, ladies ; it is all 
very kind to talk to me of a ten-by-twelve 
room, a stove with a pint of coal in it, a 
bed and a chair, and food from your 
tables, but, on the other hand, while I’m 
thankful to you, consider all that your 
husbands have done for me ! ” 

These were the hand-grenades which 
demented Ellen Grey flung promiscu- 
ously among the assembled ladies of the 
Union Benevolent Society before whom 


8 


The Curse and the Clip. 

she was standing. The trouble was that 
all her words were true ; and as she 
spoke, face after face of these kindly and 
elegant women, flushed and paled, and 
was bowed low with shame. The judge’s 
wife recovered first. 

“ Pooh, she’s crazy ! I doubt if she is 
safe out of an asylum.” “ If such talk is 
worth anything, why are not all the 
people in town as drunken as she is ; all 
have had the same example and the same 
opportunity,” said the wife of the hotel- 
keeper. 

“ For an ignorant woman like Ellen to 
set herself to criticise, and condemn the 
judgment of all the doctors and drug- 
gists ! ” cried in chorus the doctors’ and 


82 The Curse and the Cup. 

druggists’ ladies, tossing their best bon- 
nets. 

‘'That is all our thanks for helping the 
saucy jade ! ” said the politician’s wife, 
indignantly. 

But the minister’s wife’s place was 
vacant; she had gone out cut to the 
heart, resolved so to tell her husband 
this tale, that hereafter he should preach 
total abstinence and prohibition. 

Then all the ladies of the Union Be- 
nevolent Society told Ellen Grey that 
she was very ungrateful and very rude, 
and that they would consider her case. 
Then by them Ellen’s case was dropped ; 
for the politician’s wife told the rest that 
“ Ellen was communistic and Jacobinical, 


The Curse and the Cup. 83 

and exactly such a woman as had created 
the French revolution ; ” and the hotel- 
keeper's help-meet said that to encour- 
age such people was dangerous and most 
unpatriotic and subversive of American 
liberties ; while the judge’s wife held her 
head high, and exclaimed that if this talk 
were tolerated, she soon expected to see 
all social distinctions abolished, and her 
washerwoman and the street-cleaner sit- 
ting to dinner in her own parlor ! Then 
she shuddered such a prolonged shudder 
that all the ladies shivered sympathetically. 

Meanwhile the minister’s wife quietly 
went and paid the rent for Ellen’s de- 
spised room, and collected a little money 
for fuel and bread for her, and promise 
of sending in funds for her needs. 


84 The Curse and the Cup. 

Mrs. Neville and a few others contrib- 
uted, and clothes were found as Ellen 
needed them. These friends had hoped 
that Ellen would become sober for want 
of money to buy whisky, but she would 
beg drinks and hang about the depot and 
beg pennies, all to be spent in liquor, and 
often she pawned or sold a decent dish 
of food, or a good article of dress, and 
spent the money for the poison that was 
eating up her soul. Finally, the minister 
was called to another city, and Ellen with 
no especial friend to look after her, fell 
into neglect. As she was without shelter, 
some official gave her, early in •the spring, 
leave to inhabit a miserable one-room 
shed which belonged to the city ; there, 
during the summer, Ellen subsisted, beg- 


The Curse and the Cup. 85 

ging the little which she needed to eat, 
grown now haggard, white-haired, feeble, 
but still vain and scrupulously neat. 

At this time I first became acquainted 
with Ellen ; she came to me as a beggar, 
and electrified me by stipulating carefully 
as to the kind of clothing, and the cook- 
ing of viands which she would receive. 

“ Have you any gloves — not with the 
fingers out?” said Ellen, “and shoes to 
fit me? I wear two-and-a-half? Mrs. 
Neville gave me this black dress; I don’t 
like black, it is too dull, and gives me 
bad thoughts about death and such 
things. I’m afraid to die, all drunkards 
are ; poor things, they have all bad here, 
and all bad hereafter. It is a dangerous 
road to set out on, and very little chance 


86 The Curse and the Cup. 

of turning back. Still, I think I can wear 
the black dress if you’ll give me a nice 
blue bow for my neck.” 

“And you call yourself a drunkard?” 
I said. 

“ Yes, I have to; any one can see it ; 
but once, once you would have never 
thought that of me, of pretty Ellen Grey.” 

“As you know so well your fault, its sad 
consequences in this life, and in the life 
to come, why not reform ? ” 

“ There, how easy you folks talk who 
have never tried. It is hard, too hard 
for people like me, with their minds all 
broken up by drink. No, no ; I’ll drink 
—and die ! ” 

Ellen came several times after that, and 
was free to talk of her fallen condition. 


The Curse and the Cup. 87 

always with the most hopeless, cold, take- 
ruin-for-granted air, that gave her best 
friends the fixed conviction that she was 
a destroyed soul. 

I mentioned her to Mrs. Neville, and 
received from her the foregoing account 
of Ellen Grey. 

She ceased to come to my house, and 
I had nearly forgotten her, until one 
winter’s day, when the snow lay deep, I 
was walking with Mrs. Neville, and we 
passed through a dismal, back street, and 
there, before the worst, and most ruinous 
cabin, stood a grand sleigh with a pair of 
prancing horses, a wolf-skin robe, a black 
driver; every adjunct of a fine sleigh- 
ride. A weazened face, under a much- 
trimmed, but faded and old-fashioned bon- 


88 The Curse and the Cup, 

net looked out of the window, and I ex- 
claimed, “ Why, there is Ellen Grey ! ” 

We stopped to look back, when jolly 
Mark Thompson, our constable, came 
down the street with a warm woolen 
shawl in his arms. 

What is this, Mark ? ” asked Mrs. 
Neville. 

“ Why, his honor, the Mayor, told me 
he would give me five dollars, if I would 
get Ellen Grey off quietly to the Poor- 
house. I’ve invested one dollar in this 
team to drive out to our County Hotel, 
less than a mile, you know, and I came 
up here in style, and asked Ellen to take 
a drive. She was mightily tickled with 
the turn-out, and agreed in* a hurry, but 
then she said she had no shawl, and so 


The Curse and the Cup, 89 

she hadn’t, at least no warm one. I told 
her no lady should lose a ride for want 
of a wrap, and I ran into the hotel and 
borrowed the cook’s blanket shawl. So 
now Ellen’s off, and I’m glad of it, for 
every day, this last cold spell. I’ve ex- 
pected to find her dead of cold and star- 
vation in that shell of a house.” 

Away ran Mark, and we watched him, 
as he went into the cabin, wrapped Ellen 
up, and leading her out, with obsequious 
attention, assisted jier into the sleigh. 
Ellen was in high spirits ; her palsied head 
bobbed gleefully to and fro, her hands 
fluttered around, waving, although she 
did not know it was a last “good-by” 
to her neighbors. Her eyes fell on Mrs. 
Neville aifd myself. Her hands waved 


90 The Curse and the Cup. 

yet, more ecstatically, her shrill voice 
piped, “ Good-by, ladies ; there is some 
good left yet for Ellen Grey ! ” 

Our hearts ached for the poor, de- 
ceived thing ; still, Mark’s way of carry- 
ing her off had saved a frantic scene 
with her. He told us afterwards that he 
drove up to the imposing front of the 
Poorhouse, invited her to go in and 
have a piece of cake ; took her into the 
matron’s parlor, seated her in a large 
chair by the glowing, fire, and, overcome 
by the ride in the cold, the unwonted 
heat, and the unexpected feeling of com- 
fort, poor Ellen fell into a heavy sleep. 
While she was unconscious she was car- 
ried up to the ward, and put to bed. 
What was her waking ? 


The Curse and the Cup. 91 

Let us pause to consider that, this 
woman, if it had been by a merciful State 
rendered impossible for her to get a 
mouthful of alcoholic drink, would have 
been, instead of a miserable pauper, the 
happy, useful and respected head of a 
family. The business left her by her 
husband, might have been increased 
until she had not only a competence, but 
wealth. She had four children who 
might have done honor to any home, and 
standing in a joyful old age among those 
children and their families, pretty Ellen 
Grey would have become notable, full- 
pursed, grandmother Grey. Now she 
was a pauper, carried by guile to an 
almshouse, to wake from deep sleep 
only to find herself in the ward among 


92 The Curse and the Cup. 

the other paupers, friendless, degraded, 
miserable. 

Whether it was the shock of this awak- 
ening, or merely the ordinary conclusion 
of her self-destroying habits, Ellen Grey 
never left the bed in which she was first 
laid at the Poor-house. We heard that 
she was very feeble, and hoping that 
long deprivation of liquor would have 
brought her to a reasonable frame of 
mind, we went to see her, in the eleventh 
hour: even in the hour of death she might 
hear the “Voice of Free Grace.” But, 
no; Ellen’s mind was hopelessly shat- 
tered. The matron, during one of our 
visits to Ellen, took us through the Poor- 
house. The building had cost fifty 
thousand dollars, and it cost the county 


93 


The Curse and the Cup. 

eight thousand dollars yearly to support 
it. All this the poor cost the county. 
And who were the poor ? we asked the 
matron. She was a plain, common-sense 
woman, who never read newspapers, nor 
interested herself in great questions, and 
probably had never read a page about 
the Temperance Cause. She answered 
us : “ Whisky brings ’em, one an’ all. If 
we has orphans, their parents was too 
drunken to leave ’em a livin’ ; old folk ? 
Their children is drunken’ and don’t sup- 
port ’em. The paupers has all been 
drinking people ; the lunyticks comes 
from drinking families, or has been drink- 
ers. Whisky does it. Whisky cost the 
county all this, and then look at the spiled 
folks. Why, all these folks ought to been 


94 The Curse and the Cup. 

makin’ a livin’ an’ doin’ of some good in 
the world ! ” 

Yes, look at the spoiled folk! sure 
enough. And Ellen was one of them. 
She lay slowly pining away for several 
months, and one spring morning the 
matron, passing through the ward, bent 
over this one strangely still sleeper, and 
found her — dead ! 

That afternoon a gentleman, a lady, 
and a pretty girl of fourteen left the cars 
at our depot, and asked the baggage- 
master if he knew where a woman named 
Ellen Grey, was living. 

“ Oh, Ellen Grey,” said the man ; 
“ you’ll find her at the Poor-house, an’ 
pretty bad off, I’ve heard tell.” 

The party at once went to the nearest 


The Curse and the Cup. 95 

cab-stand, took a cab and drove off. The 
baggage-master followed them with his 
eyes. Then he exclaimed : 

“I’m blest if I don’t believe them is 
Ellen Grey’s folks. That gal is the liv- 
ing moral of Ellen, as she come here 
when she first married, and the lady will 
be Patty.” 

The man’s judgment was correct. 
Patty had married a wealthy man, and 
this was her wedding journey. She had 
told her husband her step-mother’s story, 
and they had come to see if they could 
do anything for her. In this journey 
they were accompanied by Tottie. They 
reached the alms-house, jus^ as a shabby 
hearse came out, and turned to the pot- 
ter’s-field. 


g6 The Curse and the Cup. 

“ Who is dead ? ” asked the gentleman. 

“ Ellen Grey,” said the gate-keeper. 

The carriage fell in behind the pau- 
per s hearse, and moved slowly the few 
rods to the burial-ground. There a min- 
ister was standing by a newly-dug grave, 
in the midst of dozens of graves, each 
marked by a small unpainted stick. Al- 
most without an exception these were 
victims of rum. 

Thereafter a white marble headstone 
stood in that potter’s-field, and on it 
were inscribed these words : 

ELLEN GREY, 

A VICTIM OF 

Suicidal Legislation. 


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